Last year, Storage Hunters star Jesse McClure was given the green light to star in his own TV show for the Discovery Channel. He was on the road in the UK filming when he received a phone call at 3 am from his oncologist back in Los Angeles, who broke the news to him that he had T1 Seminoma testicular cancer and that he needed to come home.

‘Eleven hours is a long flight home when you’re going back for surgery to lose a bit of your manhood,’ he told me.

Manhood and masculinity: these are two things that came up a lot during our chat.

Known as TruTV’s Storage King, Jesse is a man’s man. He describes himself as being raised in a middle-class family, with a job ‘buying and selling peoples’ junk’ – a profession that he says is similar to being a white van man. He is the epitome of that masculine guy that drinks beer and doesn’t talk about his feelings – and he knows that.

One of those things has changed – and it’s not the beer drinking. (When we talk on the phone he delighted in telling me that he was currently supping on a cold brew just metres away from Professor Green).

If Jesse’s experience with cancer has taught him anything, it’s that dropping the facade of masculinity, the idea that men must carry the burden alone, could be potentially live-saving.

Even before he found out about the cancer, the prospect of having a regular check-up was something that he had previously deemed unnecessary, and it was only due to his heightened stress levels, hiked by his career, that got him thinking about asking for help.

‘I’d just gone for a normal check-up. It was a combination of worrying about my medical health but also based on stress,’ he told me. ‘I was on the road so much, it took its toll massively. I was just having general stress and anxiety.

‘Thankfully it was a blessing in disguise – I had no idea [about the cancer]. It wasn’t something I was expecting. Before, I thought I didn’t need to go to the doctor. I didn’t need to get my masculinity checked – “I’m on a TV show on my own and I don’t need that, thank you very much.” But that couldn’t be further from the truth.’

Upon finding out, his first thoughts were about the show he was in the middle of shooting – he still had a week of filming left. And so four hours later he was back in front of the camera, ‘with a big smile on my face, selling collectibles.’

Jesse was of the opinion that no matter what, he just had to get on with things – but he knew he couldn’t be naïve or ignorant to the severity of his condition.

‘There’s a misconception that, as a male you have to carry on, and if something bad happens you have to deal with it on your own.

‘That’s why I’m really coming out in public on it now, to warn those people – those dads, sons, brothers who say they’ll take care of it on their own – that’s what family and friends are here for.’

And so, he called his dad.

‘The very first person I told was my father. Obviously telling my parents was the most difficult thing of all. I was 29 when I got it, and they’re going through that thing of thinking their child could die before them. That was the most difficult thing for me.

‘I think it was something I had to address, by telling my dad I had to take care of it and I needed his support. I think that was the most difficult thing from a man-to-man perspective.

‘It was easier telling my mother and my girlfriend, but from a masculine stand point – and that’s why I stress this so much – I think there’s a misconception it puts your manhood in check but in reality it’s not.

It was also hard to tell his partner Nicole, but it was she who became Jesse’s rock, and encouraged him to use his voice in order to help others.

‘For my girlfriend, obviously it was horrible, especially because her first thought is, “I could lose my partner”. But I think getting through those initial hard parts and the impact of telling them the news was worth it to know I had these people beside me that believed in me.

‘She helped me persevere through it and she knew that I could use it as a gift to help others rather than keep it to myself.’

Upon hearing the bad news of his diagnosis, Jesse said there was one image that instantly stood out in his mind: moustaches.

‘Those stupid awful Movember moustaches my friends grew in high school!’ he laughed. ‘Saying “we’re doing it for nut cancer!” I thought it was the dumbest thing ever.

‘But it was the first thing that came into my head in that moment. I knew I had to take care of it immediately.’

Movember, the worldwide foundation that encourages men to take care of their mental and physical health, started the moustache-growing movement to raise awareness of the fact that men are dying too young; from cancer, from not talking, from the modern masculinity crisis men find themselves embroiled in.

Most men who get testicular cancer are between 15 and 40 years old, and in most cases there is a 95% survival rate. A positive outcome yes, but as their website says, it’s ‘no comfort to the one man in 20 who won’t make it.’

When Jesse begins talking on the subject of the Movember foundation, his passion is palpable, because he credits the movement with saving his life.

After his diagnosis, the urge to Google his symptoms didn’t even enter his mind, because he knew he had all the information and statistics that he needed.

‘The worst thing you can do is Google any issue. Your question is followed by a hundred more questions,’ he said. ‘But because I knew about Movember from my friends’ stupid moustaches, I knew that would be one of the best resources to get straight facts, rather than any message board or forums.’

He understands that it is hard to talk about cancer – or just talk in general – as a man. There is, after all, ‘nothing sexy about pulling down your pants and having someone check your nuts’:

‘[Cancer] is not a fun thing to talk about. [We need to] drop these walls and misconceptions that it’s more masculine to hold it inside than be open and honest.

Jesse is using his experience to help others (Picture: GC Images)

‘It’s important if you value your life and friends and yourself that you drop this act of masculinity and “I can do it on my own” and get yourself checked.

‘I don’t want to see another person affected by what I have go through it on their own. All you have to say is “I need help” and there will be help for you.’

To me, it sounded like Jesse had managed to turn his cancer and the subsequent mental anguish into a positive. But Jesse said his positivity comes from the possibility of getting others the help they need. For him, there are plenty of days that are still a struggle.

‘When I’m alone and it’s just me – at the end of the day, I’m down a nut. I personally feel like I’m half the man I used to be. I know that’s not the truth.

‘I’m certainly going through my own mental issues with this, I have a long journey ahead of me. To say that I’m in the clear would be completely false. I just got out of step one and now I’m on step two, but there’s eight more steps to go.

‘So hopefully with this I can help those that are in step one, or those who don’t even know yet, and guide them. I’m still seeking counselling and help from those that have gone through this.’

In the aftermath of a cancer diagnosis the mental recuperation is just as important as the physical. For Jesse, the cancer doesn’t cease to exist once it’s been removed.

‘The real reality check is when you’re sitting on a gurney in one of those paper thin gowns, and a million different questions go through your mind. Primarily: “Am I going to wake up from this?”

‘I don’t think that’s something you can just walk away from after the surgery. So I think constantly seeking the help of professionals to navigate you through these kind of circumstances is healthy.’

During his lowest point, Jesse was in the process of going through a divorce and dealing with his cancer simultaneously. During this nadir, it was hard to see life beyond the diagnosis. But now he’s happier than ever in a different relationship, with a fitness guru girlfriend that’s got him on an all-organic diet (‘it’s for the best,’ he says wistfully), and has all the love and support of his family and friends.

But like he says, he’s not in the clear just yet. He’s still got a number of check-ups to go through, and is meeting with his oncologist to talk ‘next steps’. He might still have to do a round of chemotherapy, and doctors are still ‘pushing for radiation’. This is by no means the end of the road for the 31-year-old, but he’s keen to use his experiences so far to help those who are on their own cancer journey:

‘As someone that has been on TV and has a voice, I just want to be that little peace offering that tells people: Message me personally. Twitter, email, whatever – know that I’m there for you, and I want to be there for you, because I’ve been through it.

‘I’m still fighting, and I’m still with everyone else who’s joining the fight.’

Listen is a series supporting Movember, encouraging men to speak out. Stay tuned for articles throughout November and click here to donate to help the many charities involved.

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